A Malfoy Sort of Tale
by Madea's Rage
Summary: A thrilling tale of love, adventure, and bad language, from the quill of Draco Malfoy. And that muggle woman helped a bit, too.


**After a good deal of pleading, Madea surrendered her writing machine for an hour so I could try my hand. It's not nearly as hard as she makes out.**

**T****here's violence and bad language . Probably shouldn't read if these things upset you. Since I wrote everything, I've no doubt you'll all agree wholeheartedly with everything inside, but if you don't, do remember it's fiction. At least for now...**

**Oh, and this is for something called the "Silence-verse.' It's evidentially not 'canon'. I pointed out this was obvious and got a very nasty look.**

**My darling Countess Black is always a help in matters of writing.**

**This is for April, my dear girl, who understands how things *really* are. We'll keep humouring Madea though, won't we?**

**Oh, and do be a good little muggle and leave me a message. won't you?**

**Draco**

Weasley the prat wandered gormlessly toward the Lake, looking poor and stupid as usual. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and he was munching at whatever it is people like him eat (eating in public is vulgar anyway).

Beside him, Scarhead was walking quickly, because he was ever so slightly smarter than Weasley. He looked like he hadn't combed his hair in five years (hasn't, likely) and his jumper was tatty and far too big for him.

"Come on, Weasley' said Potter in his stupid 'I'm the boy who won't bloody die' voice. 'if we aren't back to the castle soon, we might get attacked, which would serve us right for being unbearable fools, and also because we both know we're shite at Quidditch."

"Mhmm gfgfj' croaked Weasley, swallowing what was in his mouth. "You're certainly right about that, Potter. Everyone is just nice to you because you're an orphan, and me because my sister is an amazon who will hurt them and fights all my battles for me."

Behind them, Granger smiled pitying and pulled her coat about her. She'd finally got a decent one, and she wore it when she took a walk with the jackasses, because she felt sorry for them, and had terrible taste in friends. Also, she was too well taught to eat in public, so she wasn't.

Potty and Weaslebee ambled about some more, making similar pointless observations about things no one else is slow enough to notice, and generally being snotty tossers. Just then, a band of centaurs burst from the forrest, having heard the voices of the two idiots.

"Stop' said the centaur who didn't teach our classes. "I shall kill you for trespassing on our territory, and also because you're grating little wankers who deserve what they get." The two shrieked like little girls, too thick to run away.

"But I thought you're territory was further in the forest' said Potter. (Told you he was smarter). The centaur who didn't teach our class shook his head. "It was, but Lucius Malfoy arranged for us to move for some reason. He's a fine man, and you ought to be grateful to be allowed to breathe the same air as he."

"And his son' said another non-teaching centaur.' We hear his son is brilliant."

"Not to mention handsome and the best wizard of your year." Said a third. "All the girls adore young Master Malfoy."

Weasel turned to St. Potter. "Perhaps that is why we are unable to get even the smallest crumb of attention from witches."

"Well, Malfoy is pretty amazing, Weasley. Both of them, really. I suppose it's right and proper we be relegated to releasing our own humours night after night. Better get used to it, as no witch would want to marry us anyway." He didn't say relegated, thought, because he is a moron.

"That's certainly true." Weaslebee and Potter gave the matter some thought as the centaurs did centaur things (what do I look like, Granger? You've an imagination, haven't you? Worse than Goyle, I swear.)

Speaking of which, Granger stepped forward. "Please don't kill them. They're my friends for no good reason, because all they ever do is get me into trouble and ask me to do homework for them."

"Well' said the centaur who didn't teach us (the first one), 'We wouldn't kill you, anyway, because you're the only female fit for a Malfoy."

Granger shook her head. Tibby had brushed her hair so it didn't look ratty, and all the centaurs noticed how shiny it was, and were jealous of the jammy bloke who got to touch it ( the **ONLY** bloke who got to touch it).

"My misguided sense of loyalty to these pillocks refuses to allow me to leave them to their justly deserved fates, even though it would be better for everyone, and I could easily get away while you gruesomely ripped them to pieces."

"Well, that is a dodgy quaffle, isn't it?" The centaurs did centaur things for a while longer, until, just in the nick of time, a wizard appeared. He was tall, and handsome, with platinum blond hair and the aristocratic features of a true Pureblood. His trusty friend was beside him. The friend was looked as though he could easily smash most people, which he could.

"Never fear, gentle maiden (well, not maiden, exactly, but tradition and all that), I shall save you!"

"It's Malfoy!" Breathed Weaslebee, mouth hanging open cretinously. Potter was also gaping.

"He'll save us! He's clearly our superior in every way!"

Draco went and put out a hand to Granger, who took it. As she walked, everyone noticed what a nice arse she had, and envied that Malfoy could touch it whenever he liked, and also he'd had a virgin, because they never would. (Well, perhaps the centaurs.)

Goyle stepped forward to retrieve Potter, because he's the more bearable of the two, and Slytherin cunning told them he might be useful. And Granger would whinge horribly if they didn't. Unfortunately, Weasel wasn't so lucky. The centaur shot him full of arrows.

He might have been all right, except that he stepped on an acantha plant, receiving the full dose of venom in it's many, many spines. Which woke the Arachnid beetles living underneath, who wove him up in their acidic mouth webs.

Just then, a freak meteor passed through and crashed right into the simpleton, setting him afire and knocking into the Lake, where a family of selkies was sunning. Sadly, these selkies had recently gotten infected with spattergroit, well known to cause madness in magical creatures (What, it is. Check it with St. Mungo's if you don't believe me). They ripped him limb from limb, which caused the mermaids to investigate, and take whatever pitiful remains there were away with them for some reason.

And with that, the four intrepid adventurers returned to the castle, everyone cheering for them and Firsties strewing sweets and flowers and all that. When apprised of the tragic demise of the halfwitted Weaselbee, even his sister didn't care. "We never liked him. It'll be like he never existed at all.

She gave the heroic Draco a melting look, which he ignored. "Sorry, Weaslette, but I have eyes only for Granger, because she isn't a mannish shrew like yourself."

Weaselette nodded. "I suppose I am. Well, I'll go where I'm wanted, then." With that, she turned and stomped off, perhaps to molest Potter or eat live bats or something.

Draco seized his mudblood and carried her to the Room of Requirement, where he set her down on the bed. "Oh, Draco, my hero!"

"Of course I am, love."

"I realized today that I require your gentle care and correction, and should always do exactly as you say."

"Quite right."

"Please, Draco, smack me until you feel I've learned something from this, and then help me release my humours, because no one will ever satisfy me but you."

"Well' he said modestly, tugging Granger's skirt up and fondling her amazing arse that only he can touch (and I will **knock the teeth** out of any bloke who tries to prove me wrong) 'I am intensely charismatic and talented in the art of pleasing you."

After her lesson, Draco tenderly laid his witch down and (This is PRIVATE. Look away, were you raised by muggl---ohh. Well, it's very rude, is all I mean. Carry on).

And then some other things happened, and with that, a great cheer rose in the Hall, when the decrepit old battle axe handed him the House Cup, for he had surely earned it.

THE END


End file.
